


The Boy Next Door: A New Year's Tradition

by BastardSonOfDay (Diana_Raven)



Series: Hannukah Gifts [5]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 23:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16881519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diana_Raven/pseuds/BastardSonOfDay
Summary: Lucien wants to play in the snow, but his brothers won't let him play with them. So Lucien goes in search of someone else, and stumbles across the family who lives next door and the three boys there who need another for their snowball fight.Modern AU





	The Boy Next Door: A New Year's Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RhycienSmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhycienSmut/gifts).



> Prompt: rhysand and lucien are playing in the snow and one of them suddenly tackles the other to the ground and now they both are very close and staring into each other's eyes. what happens next is up to you!

Aged 5:

“Hey! No fair!” Lucien cried as his brothers tried to push his head further into the snow.

“’Course it’s fair!” Aish snarled. “You’re the littlest so you’re the one to get buried.”

Lucien bit Aish’s hand as it went to press him back down into the packing snow beneath them and Aish let out a scream of outrage. “-Why you little _gremlin_ -!” but one second was all Lucien needed. He was up and back to the steps of the house in no time, where their father’s watchful eyes from the window prevented any bullying. Just there, mind you, no where else. Not that Beron had anything against bullying, but rather because if Beron could see it then—and only then—was it real. And once it was real it was a disgrace to the family. As Lucien and his brothers knew only too well, one did not disgrace the Vanserra name.

Glumly, Lucien kicked at the slush on the stairs to the house. Why did his brothers have to be so mean? All he wanted was to play in the snow. Without Lucien his brothers seemed to be having fun. Yesterday, Lucien had wanted to join in the snowball fight they were having, but they had said no because then the teams would be uneven. Lucien could understand that but today they were making snowmen and that didn’t take two teams!

Lucien squinted his eyes. Tamlin and his brothers lived right across form the Vanserras, maybe Lucien could go play over there? Lucien glanced back at the window. His mother would never let him go play that far away from the house by himself… even if it was Tamlin. Tam was always nice to him, Lucien thought.

All around the street Lucien could hear the sounds of kids playing. Over to the left was Helion and his friends, diagonally across the street from him were Tarquin and his cousins. They all seemed to be having loads of fun… Everyone except Lucien.

Amongst the screams and giggles Lucien heard one statement that rang in his ears. “Let’s have a snowball fight!”

Lucien perked up when he heard the voices. He stood on his tiptoes, looking at the fence that separated his front yard from the family next door’s. Someone wanted to have a snowball fight?

“Dude, we _can’t_ ,” someone else there lamented. “There’s only three of us, it wouldn’t be fair.”

Lucien could be a fourth! He could! Taking special care that his brothers didn’t see him, Lucien peeking around the fence.

“You guys need another person to play?” Lucien asked.

The three boys jumped, looking at him. They all looked nice enough, Lucien thought. All with brown hair and dark skin (two of them had skin darker than Lucien’s, which was darker than his brothers’ but _way_ lighter than Tarquin’s, the third had skin lighter than his friends’). They all also seemed about his age and everyone Lucien had met who had been his age had been way nicer than Lucien’s brothers who were all older than he was.

The boys glanced around, then collectively shrugged. Because to five year olds, sometimes all one needed was to just be in the right place at the right time, and a friendship is born. “Sure.” The lightest skinned boy said. “I’m Rhys. This is Cass,” he said pointing to the larger of the other two, “and that’s Az.” Rhys said, pointing to the final one.

“Lucien. I live next door. Are you brothers or friends?”

The boys glanced at one another, as if they weren’t sure. “Brothers.” Rhys said decidedly.

“Brothers.” Cass agreed. Az blushed but nodded in agreement.

“Okay.” Lucien said. “My brothers are mean. I hope you guys aren’t.”

“Nah.” Cass said. “Mom would kill us if we were.”

“Lucien is on Az’s team!” Rhys cried. “I’m with Cass.” Rhys grabbed Cass and then the two of them ran off to build their fort.

“Just us then.” Az said softly.

Lucien nodded.

Then the two boys grinned at one another as they saw Rhys pull Cass’s hair and Cass stick his tongue out at Rhys. “We’re _sooo_ gonna win.”

“Yeah. Totally.”

 

“Look out!” Az shouted, eyes wide. He was so busy looking out for his partner that he didn’t see as Cass slammed a giant snowball into his face.

Lucien turned just in time to see Rhysand hurl a snowball at Lucien’s face. Lucien stumbled back, wiping snow furiously from his eyes, but to Rhys’ dismay he then tripped and fell right into Lucien. Lucien slammed backwards against the snow (which thankfully cushioned his fall slightly) and Rhys fell right on top of him.

Rhys and Lucien were so close. Their breaths fogged up against one another’s. Lucien could feel Rhys’ every breath despite the layers of fabric that kept them far(er) apart.

“LUCIEN!”

“ _Rats_!” Lucien jumped up, smashing his forehead into Rhys’ nose. Rhys screamed and tumbled off of Lucien, clutching at it—blood gushing. Lucien gasped. “Sorry!”

“ _LUCIEN_!”

“Coming, Mom!” Lucien shot Rhys and apologetic look but Rhys waved him off and Lucien ran back to his side of the fence.

 

Aged 6:

“Bye, Mom! I’ll be home before dark-!”

“Lucien Vanserra, sit back down, young man!”

Lucien dropped back into his seat, all bundled up and ready to play. Now, his mood was shattered. Lucien hung his head, eyes trained on the ground. He wasn’t sure what he did, but he knew he would find out soon. He always did when his mother said that.

“Lucien.”

Lucien’s head shot up, eyes wide. His father. His father usually didn’t care about the stupid things he did wrong, like not making his bed or the scratch he got from ~~being pushed~~ falling off the swings.

“Yes, Father?”

“So, you’ve met the boys next door.” Beron said softly. He was scary enough when he was soft, Lucien would have been too terrified to speak if he had been yelling. But Beron had a hot temper, and Lucien knew that the shouts were on their way.

Lucien couldn’t do anything but nod.

Beron ran a finger over the glass in his hand. The whistling sound echoed in the high-ceilinged dining room. “Lucien… what do you think of them?”

Lucien was surprised. “They’re nice?”

His mother put a steady hand on Beron’s shoulder. Beron ignored her. “Do they talk about their father?”

“Beron...”

“I _know_ what I’m doing, my dear.” Beron hissed through clenched teeth.

“No?” Lucien said, confused. To be honest he and his friends had never talked about their parents, they were too busy playing in the snow and savoring their break before Az, Cass, and Rhys went back to Illyrian Boarding and Education Prep.

“Hmm...” Beron mused. “You can go out and play.” Beron said.

Lucien, too young to understand the tightness in his mother’s glare, skipped out of the house, giddy.

“Beron, I don’t want Lucien playing with those… _boys.”_

“Now, now darling. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

“You _know_ what that woman is like. And her _husband!_ He might even be more dangerous than you.”

Beron stood up a little to quickly and Mrs. Vanserra stumbled back. Beron put an arm around his wife, gently. “Yes, and Lucien is going to become their best friend, and therefore, so will we.”

 

Lucien ran out into the snow. He skidded around the corner, dodging his brothers’ looks. “I’m here! I’m ready!”

Rhys grinned. His nose had healed well, though now it was slightly crooked. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry. Parents being parents. How was school?”

Az shrugged. Cass made a face. Rhys just swung an arm around Lucien’s shoulder. “We’re just happy to be home.”

Lucien grinned at Rhys. “Let’s play!”

“Lucien and Cass against me and Rhys!” Az called, already kneeling on the ground to being building his fort.

“Great! I’ve got a plan...” Cass said, pulled at Lucien’s hand. “We’re gonna bring them down!” The two of them high-fived and set off to win.

 

Lucien let out a war cry, about to pounce, snowball in hand and then slipped on some ice. He took a face full of snow and floundered in the pile of snow to turn himself right-side up. He was wiping the snow from his face when Rhys came around to try out an ambush that Az had planned. He didn’t see Lucien and tripped right over him.

“Sorry!” Lucien cried.

“Oops!” Rhys said, scrambling onto his butt. He held out a hand to help Lucien up when Lucien’s mom called him back in for an afternoon snack. Lucien jumped to his feet and Rhys—this time aware of Lucien’s ability to be fast when his mother calls—dove backwards to avoid the top of Lucien’s head.

Lucien froze, processing what Rhys had done.

Rhys smirked sheepishly. “No more broken noses.”

Lucien laughed. “Sorry.” Lucien gave the boys a wave, and ran back over the fence.

 

Aged 12:

The high-ceilinged ballroom of the Vanserra’s new year’s eve party was always sparkling. With Mrs. Vanerra’s iron hand, the entire house had been dusted and shined within an inch of it’s life. The theme of this year’s party being Winter Wonderland.

In the mingling-time before dinner, Lucien had hid in his room. He just wanted dinner and that was it. No flaunting over the other families on Royalty Row about how well they’d done this fiscal year. He was sick of having to be nice to Helion and Kallias and all those neighborhood kids.

Tamlin was nice enough but lately he’d gotten… mean. Angry. All the time he was so serious. Lucien just missed being kids, when they had no parental loyalties to uphold. It was especially hard after Rhys’ father had outbid Lucien’s in a recent military deal.

Rhys apparently wasn’t coming anyway, or so Lucien had been told when Cass had last texted him. The three of them weren’t flying back in for the holidays. Lucien didn’t really want to be down there alone. Especially with his brothers being… his brothers.

Lucien’s phone buzzed in his hands. Lucien looked down.

_**Rhys, 10:56:** _

_**wyd** _

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

_**Lucien, 10:56:** _

_**y** _

_**Rhys, 10:56:** _

_**just tell me** _

_**Lucien, 10:57:** _

_**in my room** _

_**since you guys ABANDONED ME** _

_**/s /s** _

_**Rhys, 10:58:** _

_**Won’t even go downstairs? Just to poke around?** _

Lucien sent back a shrugging emoji.

_**Rhys, 11:00:** _

_**Cass says something not very nice in return** _

_**Lucien, 11:01:** _

_**What did I do to him?** _

_**Rhys, 11:03:** _

_**come downstairs and see** _

Come downstairs and-

Lucien’s eyes widened. He scrambled off of his bed. Rhysand was _here?_ He’d told Lucien he’d be gone all winter! Well, at least Cassian was certainly here. And one was just as good as all.

Lucien raced down the stairs, dodging his brothers and aunts and the guests until he heard a simple voice by the punch bowl tsk: “We come all the way from Illyrian Boarding School and you don’t even show up?”

Lucien whirled around and tackled Cassian in one arm and Azriel in the other. The three burst into giggles.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” Lucien hissed. He punched Rhys in the arm and Rhys laughed.

“It was last minute. Father wanted us home to show us off. See, we’ve gotten taller than you now.” Rhys explained. He put one hand to the top of his head and measured it out two inches over Lucien’s. Lucien noticed that Azriel and Cassian were taller than him too.

Lucien stuck his tongue out at them. “Lucien! You’ve finally come downstairs! Come meet our guests-!” Mrs. Vanserra called, walking over to him.

“Now look what you’ve done.” Lucien hissed at the rest of them. Then, he turned and went off to make his mother get off his back.

“Nice party, Vanserra!” Cass called. Lucien responded with a rude gesture.

 

When Lucien finally freed himself from his mother’s grasp he found Rhys and his brothers huddled under the refreshments’ table, drinking a two and a half liter bottle of soda they’d found while eating a plate of stolen finger sandwiches.

Lucien snuck under the table to join them.

“Enjoying the party?” Lucien asked as he stuffed food down his throat. He was starving and he’d been saying ‘hello’ to so many people he hadn’t had any time to eat anything.

Rhys shrugged and passed the soda bottle to Lucien so he could wash down the food. “Better than Tamlin’s party.”

Az and Cass snorted in agreement.

“Yeah well-” Lucien was interrupted by the end of the year countdown. “Already?”

Cass counted loudly along, swinging an arm around Az and making him count too.

Rhys swung his in turn around Lucien’s shoulders. His breath smelled of sugar. “I have a feeling,” Rhysand said softly into Lucien’s ear, “this year’s going to be a good year.”

“You sure?”

“Hey, if we can show up here last minute like this, anything’s possible.”

“THREE!”

“TWO!”

“ONE!”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

 

Lucien and Rhys had come face to face yet again. The snow bit into Lucien’s backside and his fingers and cheeks were burnt from the cold. Rhys’ breath still smelled like sugar, but also… cinnamon. Lucien knew that Rhys had drunk hot chocolate for breakfast, but the smell still surprised him. Their breath mingled between them in the fog and Rhys was grinning down his crooked nose.

Lucien sat up and Rhys dove away from him, a grin on his face. He got snow all over his hair.

“Fool me once...” He said in sheepish explanation.

“And here I was, just hoping to break your nose again.”

“And we might just do that yet.” Cass cried. He let out a scream and slammed his snowball into Lucien’s face. Lucien brushes away the snow, growling.

“Oh you’re going to get it now-!”

“Only if you can catch me!” Cass crowed, diving into his snowfort.

Yeah, Rhys thought, eyes glowing as he watched his friends do battle, this year was going to be a good year.

 

Aged 13:

Rhysand frowned as he, Azriel, and Cassian stood in the snow. Usually Lucien showed up around nine or ten in the morning and they would snowball fight until lunch and then go back out. But today nothing. Rhys, Cass, and Az had been late flying in from school and hadn’t been awake enough to go to the Vanserra new year’s eve party the night before, so they hadn’t even talked to Lucien more than sent him a text and then crawl under the covers and fall asleep.

Azriel dug out his phone and texted Lucien. They waited a few minutes. No response.

It took about half an hour until the boys began to get concerned. In that time Rhys and Cassian had made four snowmen, and created a twelve snow angel tableau with who were in battle with one another.

Lucien still hadn’t come out of his house.

“You think he’s sick?” Cassian asked as he began his snowball hoard.

Rhys shook his head. “Lucien doesn’t get sick.”

“How would you know? We only see him like, twice a year.” Azriel said.

Rhys scowled at his brothers and stuck his tongue out at them. “Well, I’m going to go check on him. You know what his brothers are like.”

Azriel nodded. “Worried.”

“Yeah.” Rhys hiked through the snow and around the fence that separated their houses. Rhys knocked on the Vanserras’ door and waited.

No one answered.

Rhys knocked again.

Slowly, the door opened. Mrs. Vanserra stared down her nose at Rhysand. Her eyes hard and angry.

“You’re the kid from next door, aren’t you? Rhysand?”

Rhys nodded, flushed. “I uh-” Those angry eyes narrowed. “Can Lucien come out to play?” He asked weakly.

“No. Lucien is sleeping right now.” Mrs. Vanserra began to close the door in his face.

Rhys stuck his foot between the door and the jam. “Wait! He’s still sleeping? But it’s like, almost noon-”

“He was up late last night. He’s tired.” The words were clipped. Mrs. Vanserra’s lips pursed. Her jaw straight.

“Wait-! He’s never missed a snowball fight-! Please can I-”

“I said, he’s _tired._ Go away, Rhysand. He doesn’t want you around.” She snarled.

Rhys stumbled back, eyes wide.

“Now, now, my dear.” With that voice Mrs. Vanserra froze. Cold and icy, like a brutal autumn wind. “I’m sure Lucien would love to see his friend.” Beron looked over the shoulder of his wife, staring down the small tweenager on his doorstep.

“Beron.” Mrs. Vanserra hissed, speaking to her husband in a low voice as if Rhys wasn’t even there. “He said he doesn’t want to see anyone-”

“I’m sure, darling, that Rhysand was not on that list.” Beron said softly.

Now Rhys was starting to get a bit concerned. What exactly had happened to Lucien to shut himself in his room like that?

“Come in, Rhysand. I’ll show you up.” Beron said. Beron turned on his heel, and despite every instinct of Rhys’ screaming ‘No!’ he followed.

He’d only been in the Vanserra home once before.

That party last year. It looked just as it had then. Pretentious and expensive. With crystal chandeliers, and meticulously clean despite the party last night. The entire entrance hall (the ballroom, as Lucien called it) was sparkling and cold and clean. It kind of reminded Rhys of Kallias’ home, except Kallias’ home was one where someone was always welcome to have hot cocoa, here Rhys would be worried about accidentally spilling it and ruining all the expensive, cold hardwood floors.

Rhysand followed Beron up a spiraling staircase on the outer-edge of the ballroom. Rhys felt out of place, bundled up in his snow-clothes and tracking sludge through the impeccable house. Beron moved without making a sound through the house, but Rhys seemed to be unable to help himself from stepping on every cracking floorboard in the house.

Beron walked down a large hallway, Rhysand following behind him, head hanging awkwardly. Beron knocked on a door at the end of the hall.

No answer came from inside. Rhys fidgeted behind Beron.

Beron stuck his head in. He said something quietly that Rhys couldn’t hear and after a few seconds he leaned back out and closed the door behind him.

“You can go in, Rhysand.” Beron said. “When you’re done, close the door behind you. If you need someone to help you out, I’m sure a maid will be around.” Then Beron turned on his heel and left.

Rhys, uncomfortable but too far in to turn back now, knocked on the door. He barely heard the very soft: “Come in.”

Rhys opened the door.

Whatever he’d expected to be on the other side, what he saw was not it.

Lucien sat, curled up on his bed. A breakfast tray sat on his bedside table. He curled a hand in his duvet, his eyes trained on the window facing Rhys’ house. Rhys was unable to see his face. His red wave of hair hid the dark skin from Rhys.

Lucien’s room was red and golden themed with beautiful leaf motifs. A desk snugly in the corner, under the window. On the desk were pictures, Rhys realized eyes wide, selfies of Az and Cass and Rhys. Lucien and his school friend Andras. Pictures Rhys’ mother had taken with the three of them. In the wastebasket next to the desk, Rhys noticed, were a few broken frames, but he couldn’t tell what pictures had been in them.

“Lucien?”

“Hi.” Lucien said in a raspy, broken voice. Rhys frowned. How did someone’s voice get like that? Not from being sick… Surely not…

Why wouldn’t he look at Rhys?

Rhys walked over to the bed. Fear trembled in Rhys’ throat and finally, Rhys put a hand on Lucien’s shoulder.

Lucien flinched.

“Cass and Az are waiting.”

Lucien still wouldn’t look at him.

“What’s wrong? You know you can tell us anything, right?”

“Anything?” Lucien asked, dryly. Voice still horribly strained.

Rhys sat down on Lucien’s bed. “Anything.” He promised.

Lucien turned his head, and Rhys hoped he didn’t look too horrified—at least, after he realized how he’d gasped.

Lucien had a giant bandage down the entire left side of his face.

“What happened?”

Lucien shot a glance at the pictures in his wastebasket. “I- I did something stupid.”

“Lucien, what the hell-”

“You remember Tamlin.”

Rhys swallowed thickly. “How couldn’t I? We were friends until my parents adopted Az and Cass and we left preschool.” He knew that during the school year Tamlin, Andras, and his other Spring School friends were who Lucien mainly hung out with. Rhys couldn’t blame him, Lucien was a social person and Rhys was happy that he had friends outside of Rhys and his family. But if his friends had something to do with this… Rhys felt something harden in his heart. He hadn’t liked Tamlin before—thought he was an ass himself, but Lucien liked him.

“Well, over this year he started getting… attention from this girl at school. Her name is Amarantha.”

Rhys could see where this was going, even though he was sure that Lucien no longer could.

“He was happy at first, you know. First girlfriend and all. Plus, she’s popular. And well, she liked Tamlin. But… she doesn’t really like me.” Rhys bit his lip, but let Lucien’s croak continue. “Anyway… Tam… No that’s not right. _Amarantha_. Amarantha suggested last night that we, we were bored and we were all alone and we’d snuck some of Dad’s good stuff during the party… And Tam’s Dad has a new sportscar. Amarantha suggested we take it out for a spin.”

“Did they get hurt?” Rhys left off the ‘too’.

Lucien bit his lip, maybe to keep himself from crying. “No. Just me.”

“Why-” Rhys didn’t know what to say. “Why aren’t you at the hospital?”

“I don’t want to stay there. I don’t like hospitals… the smell… the beeping… everyone being so… nice and sweet and positive and-” Lucien came to a stop. His raspy voice creaking and croaking until he forced himself to say no more, or else he’d cry.

Then, Rhys asked the question that had been on his mind since he’d heard Lucien first speak today. “What happened to your voice?”

Lucien touched his throat gently. He dashed at the tears on his eye. “It happens when you scream a lot.”

Rhys couldn’t help himself anymore. He tackled Lucien in a hug, squeezing him as tightly as possible. Rhys bit back tears of his own—tears of rage, he’d hurt Tamlin for this, and that Amarantha too.

“You know we don’t care about what you look like, right?” Rhys whispered. “We like you ‘cuz you wanted to play with us when we were five. And friendships from the age of five don’t have the silly confines of trivial things like that.”

Lucien snorted between tears and snapped something rather quite mean, but without any bite.

Rhys shifted and took out his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m sure you don’t want to come outside. It’s cold and you’re still healing and stuff, right?”

Lucien raised his eyebrow. “Uh huh…?”

“So,” Rhys said as he texted his brothers, “I’ll just have them all come up here. Either that or throw snowballs at the window.”

Lucien laughed. Actually laughed. Rhys grinned at Lucien. His phone buzzed and he glanced back down at it.

_**Az, 11:40:** _

_**on our way** _

 

Aged 14:

Lucien ate his breakfast a quickly as possible. He waited patiently and then asked to be excused.

“Where are you going?” Mrs. Vanserra asked.

“Out.”

“Be careful.” Ever since last year Lucien had been hovered over and monitored. So he was used to this. Lucien gave his Mother a weak smile and ran out before his mother could forbid him to go.

Lucien skidded down the sidewalk between their houses ready to begin the snowball fight—careful that he didn’t accidentally run into anything because of his ruined depth perception. Only no one was in the yard. In fact, the entire area was silent.

Lucien was confused. He had texted Az last night, and Az had promised that the boys would be out in the snow in a fury. Lucien walked up to the front door and knocked.

The door took a second to open. Lucien came face to face with Cassian. Cass’ eyes were bloodshot, his nose swollen and running, his face blotchy and red from crying.

 _Oh no._ Lucien thought. _This can’t be good._

Cassian glomped onto Lucien. His arms so tight around Lucien he almost couldn’t breathe. A fresh wave of tears streamed from Cass’ face. He sobbed into Lucien’s shoulder. It was then that Lucien realized that Cass’ yard wasn’t the only one that had been quiet this morning. So had Tamlin’s.

A dark feeling of dread poisoned Lucien’s belly.

“Cassian,” Lucien whispered hugging him back, “what happened?”

“She’s gone.” Cassian cried. “Mom’s gone!”

Lucien figured there would be no snowball fight today, but then again, he didn’t really care.

“Tell me what happened.” He said softly, keeping Cassian in his embrace.

“There-there was a car crash. Layla, she had an asthma attack last night, so Mom took her to the hospital. On-on the way back-” Cassian took a deep breath and small break to cry some more. Only once he could continue without breaking down again he said: “-Tamlin’s Dad and brothers… they were in a car on the way back from a new year’s eve party… it was snowing...”

“Oh Cassian… I’m so sorry.”

“She’s _gone_ , Luci. I lost one Mom already… I don’t know if I can lose another!”

“I’m so sorry, Cass. I’m so sorry.”

This was a bad omen, Lucien thought, no good would come of this year, as no good already had.

Aged 15:

“Are you sure they’ll be okay with this, Lucien?” Feyre asked nervously.

“They won’t care. Rhys, Az, and Cass are chill. Come on.” Lucien insisted. He pulled Feyre down the sidewalk and over the fence.

But Cass and Az weren’t in the yard.

“Where are they?” Lucien asked more to himself than to Feyre. The last time no one had been out here-Lucien shivered. He hoped everything was okay.

Lucien stomped up to the door and rapped his gloved hand against it. Worry filled his heart.

“What’s wrong, Lucien?” Feyre asked concerned. He’d told her that they’d already be out here readying for the fight, but the yard was empty, the snow untouched. Only the driveway and walkway to the door of the house had even been shoveled. Silence hung in the air like a plague, and the look on Lucien’s face was… sad.

No one responded. For high school Cass, Az, and Rhys had been transferred to Night Court High: a public school that Lucien was just out of the district for. The border being smack-dab between the their houses on Royalty Row.

At first, Lucien had adored the idea of them staying in-state for their schooling. Even if they did go to separate high schools they still got to see one another at parties, and across the fence during the year. They’d grown apart slightly during the year since the boys were at different schools and were making new friends (like that terrifying Amren who Rhys seemed to like so much), but Lucien would still think that their yearly tradition—despite being twice ignored—would still hold. That maybe, they’d still be able to go out, have fun, and show snow in one anothers’ faces.

Lucien had been so excited to show the _real_ Rhysand to Feyre. She’d only ever seen them at competition events, like sports games or science fairs, and the like. Rhys was so into school spirit that he usually was a prick, his snark and sarcasm playfully directed at Lucien. And Lucien had never held back either, just as willing to keep up the competition.

Unfortunately, Lucien hadn’t seen them last night at the new year’s eve party—instead their father had accepted an invitation to his brother’s party. Rhys, Az, and Cass had been there all night—preoccupied with whatever they did, so despite Lucien’s constant texts, they hadn’t answered.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t still want to hang out, right? Lucien knew that they’d skipped the last two years because of tragedies on both sides, but really that was the exception, wasn’t it? Not the rule?

It was winter break, and they were neighbors. Friends, even. And Lucien had been really looking forward to this.

So Lucien knocked again.

It was Azriel who had answered. Azriel looked surprised, as if he had forgotten about the annual snowball fight. Or maybe he was just surprised that Lucien had brought a friend.

“This is Feyre.” Lucien explained. “I was wondering if maybe she could join us.”

Azriel blinked.

“Who is it, Az?” Lucien heard Cass call from inside.

“It’s Lucien.”

“Lucien? What-?” Cass jogged up to Azriel, blinking in confusion.

It was then that Lucien realized that both Azriel and Cassian were still in their pajamas.

They weren’t even planning to leave the house.

“Didn’t-Didn’t we tell you?” Az asked.

“Tell me what? You didn’t respond to any of my texts. No one-Nothing happened right-?”

“The fight’s off.” Cass snapped, arms crossed.

“ _What_? Why?”

“Maybe I should go-.” Feyre began hesitantly.

Lucien snapped out a hand to stop her. “No. They can explain what they mean. They’re usually more polite than this.” Lucien spat. He glared at the boys.

Cass huffed angrily. “Rhys is off with his new girlfriend. There won’t be a snowball fight today, Lucien. Go home and take your friend with you.”

“What new girlfriend?”

“Didn’t you know? It’s not like he’s been hiding it.”

“Cass, that’s not fair-”

“Nothing should get in the way of family, Az! Nothing! Not even that bi-”

Lucien felt something cold clutch his heart. He and Rhys hadn’t exactly been close or in constant communication lately, but he’d never mentioned a girlfriend. Lucien would have thought that would have been something they would talk about. “Who’s he dating?”

Cass snorted. “You should know. You used to be _great friends_.” He snarled. Cass then turned and stormed back into the house.

Lucien didn’t like who Cassian was implying. “Who?”

Azriel looked like he was about to barf. His gaze slid uneasily from Feyre to Lucien and then to Lucien’s prosthetic eye. Lucien’s heart skipped a beat. “Amarantha.”

“I’m sorry, Lucien.” Az whispered. Then, he shut the door.

Aged 16:

It had been a hard year. Like, a really hard year. And for his part, Rhysand was just glad it was almost over.

Thirty minutes, he thought as he looked at the clock. Thirty minutes.

Rhysand took a swing from his red solo cup. Cass had wanted this party to be like the movies, raging and bright. Rhys had wanted a soft, quiet new year’s eve. But to be fair, he owed it to Cassian and Azriel for putting up with him all fucking year with that Bitch of a girlfriend of his. Well, ex-girlfriend.

Rhys curled up further into his ball on the couch.

Dad wasn’t home, so Cass had plunged into Party ModeTM. He’d gone all out, and Rhys hadn’t said a word against it. He was sure that Az had only gone along with it to piss Rhys off, but again, Rhys deserved it, so who was he to object.

So Rhys suffered, waiting for this hell year to end.

Twenty five minutes. Just twenty five more minutes.

Lucien peeled himself away from the dancing, cheeks flushed and eyes bright and dancing. Feyre went off to use the bathroom and Lucien waved to her before plopping himself down on the couch next to Rhysand, his long red hair up in a ponytail tonight.

He looked _really_ good, Rhysand thought as he took another sip. The alcohol was making him tingly and boiling in the heated room. But Rhys would rather than tingly feeling than none at all, especially while he wallowed. Call him a drama queen but sometimes Rhys just needed to be dramatic. And after all, he reasoned, he wasn’t exactly being dramatic when everyone really was pissed at him and his choices this year.

Twenty minutes on the clock.

Lucien chugged whatever he had left in his own cup, and put it aside on the already cup-cluttered coffee-table. Lucien then snatched Rhys’ cup from his hand and took a sip.

“New year resolutions?” Rhys asked softly. Lucien was one of the people who’d been pissed at him this year. Rhys didn’t know where they stood anymore, despite him dumping Amarantha and explaining his motives behind dating her. Lucien had said he didn’t want to talk about her after they’d reconciled. So Rhys wouldn’t.

Lucien raised an eyebrow at him and continuing drinking from Rhys’ cup. He took so long with his response that Rhys was worried he would say anything at all, just ignore him. Then, Lucien said: “Not to be a dick to my friends.”

Okay, that was fair.

Fifteen minutes left.

“Funny.” Rhys said. “That’s on my list too. One of us is going to have to change.”

Lucien tried not to laugh. He only barely succeeded.

“I’m sorry you know. I really am sorry.”

“You’ve said that before.” Lucien said coldly. “I’m starting to think those are the only words in your vocabulary.”

“If they were, would you stop treating me like I killed your puppy?”

Any trace of Lucien’s smile, the one that inexplicably made Rhys’ boozed-up heart flip-flop, disappeared.

That was a prickish thing to say, asshole. Rhys told himself. “Sorry.”

“It stops having meaning if you keep saying it for the same fucking thing.”

“I know. I’m-”

“Sorry. We get it, Rhysand. You’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry. You should get it tattooed on your forehead, it would save us all some breath.”

“What can I do to prove to you that I want to be friends again?”

Lucien sighed. “We never _stopped_ being friends. Friends can still be angry and each other, friends can still be pissed. I just-I’m sick of having to forgive you, Rhys.”

Rhys didn’t know what to say to that. Lucien took another sip from the red solo cup.

Five minutes.

“I’ve got one more thing on my resolution’s list, Rhysand.” Lucien said softly. He turned to face Rhys so that there could be no understanding. “I’m going to wipe slates clean as soon as that minute hand reaches the twelve. No more apologies, no more forgiveness. Once midnight drops, everyone’s slate will be wiped clean. This year sucked, so much that I don’t know if there’s any way for us to move past it. So that’s it. Everyone will get a second chance. You, Tamlin, fuck even Amarantha-I don’t give a shit anymore. But the moment I get treated badly once the new year has started then screw it, I’ll cut you off. Got it?”

Rhys nodded.

“I just. I want this year to start fresh. I’m tired of bad years.”

“So… does that mean…” Rhys was going to finish his question but suddenly the room was filled with the screams of the countdown.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three. Rhys realized what he would do.

Two. Rhys scooted closed to Lucien.

One.

Rhys leaned over and kissed the boy from next door, like he’d wanted to from the day Lucien broke Rhysand’s nose.

It wasn’t a huge kiss. Not big or over-dramatic. It didn’t last for more than a couple of seconds. Just one kiss.

Rhys broke away. Maybe this was the proper way to bring in the new year, he thought feeling his heart flutter in his chest.

Lucien’s eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed. Lucien put down the cup.

Rhysand waited, another apology on his lips. But instead all he said was: “So, see you tomorrow?” He hoped the pleading in his voice wasn’t too obvious. The way he wanted it all to be forgotten. How stupid was he! He could just brush it off, it was just a new year’s kiss. It didn’t mean anything. “Like usual?” Oh please, he prayed, let everything go back to the way it was. Let me have usual back.

Lucien smiled. Not grinned. Not smirked. Smiled. And said: “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

“Happy new year.”

“Happy new year.”

 

“Why is it we always seem to end up here?” Rhys asked as he found himself once again, laying on top of Lucien surrounded by snow.

Lucien smirked. “Because you’re obsessed with me.”

“Is that so?”

“More like, is that _snow_?”

Rhys’ face wrinkled in horror at the pun, making Lucien laugh. The giggle sounded through Rhysand’s bones, making him shiver under all of his snow-clothes.

“Lucien!” Azriel cried as he ducked under his fort. Shielding himself from a barrage of snowballs from Cassian. “Help!”

“Lucien is busy right now!” Rhys called back. “He’s my hostage.”

“ _Fuck you Rhys!”_

“Yeah. Fuck you Rhys.” Lucien agreed.

“Oh, don’t you wish.”

“ _Lucien!_ ”

Lucien sat up and Rhys jumped back. He was getting better at dodging Lucien’s stone-hard forehead, but this time Lucien grabbed Rhys’ ears, holding him close enough that when Lucien sat up he kissed him.

So, Rhys thought dumbly, maybe the kiss was a lucky charm for this year after all.

They sat like that for a while, in the snow kissing. Or at least, they sat there until Cassian screamed: “Ack! Rhys! Rhys I need your help! Rhys-” And glanced over at the two of them. “Rhys! Stop kissing the enemy! Ew! _Az! Rhys and Lucien are kissing_!”

“ _Ew_!”

That was what it took for Rhys to finally break the kiss, and stick his middle finger up at his brothers, who collapsed into giggles.

“So.” Rhys began, turning back to his friend who’s lap he straddled completely coincidentally. “Fresh slate, huh?”

Lucien snorted and just kissed Rhys again, despite the fake puking of Cass and Az in the background. This year, Rhys thought with confidence, this year is going to be a good one.


End file.
